Sway between days of illicit longings,

judging the wind and finding it fair,

you stand tall and fine, away.

Limbs, a listless libido with no landing,

I crawl, then walk then run, then pause.

A brief stay, a breath away,

breathing you in,

eyes shatter what it was,

scents wag preconception,

touch; a misaligned memory,

relies to heavily on fragment facts.

But the wind knows;

the wind sighs, breathes, touches,

taints me forever with you,

you who stands there,

away,

without me.